In Recovery (a poem)

Occasionally, I delve into the world of poetry, as I did this past week while reflecting on my recovery journey thus far. My hope is that this encourages you wherever you are at in your mental health journey. Check out another recent poem of mine.

I am in recovery.
In the thick of learning significance, no longer in the thin numb of my brain.
I am in progress—sometimes in my head and
Sometimes in panic.
In flux.
The "wow-life-is-really-this-good?" place,
The "I-can't-keep-breathing" place,
The "please-tell-me-this-gets-better" place.

I'm in pursuit of the day when my stomach's just a stomach;
Just a part in the wildly-complex-cool being that is me.
I'm in it.
It's in me.

I'm in grief,
Over all I've lost,
Over all that is still ahead.
I'm in transit to a freaking awesome future
That seems really freaking far.

I'm in the moot part of a point,
the endurance-zone that drags me on. Willingly.
Every choice seems uncomfy—for me or the screwed up part of my brain.
And that's recovery—
Knowing that seeming isn't believing.
Appearances lie.

I'm in recovery,
No longer in a supine slide, I am
In the textures of trying—
The ruts, cracks, rocks, vistas. 
They keep getting harder. More powerful. More determined. 
So do I.

I'm in the climax of the early chapters—
The part where the heroine goes
In defiance of the odds,
Toward the summit.
To on instead of in.
In significance.

“I’m in the moot part of a point. The endurance zone that drags me on. Willingly.”
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